The Prize
by Kannachan27
Summary: HibaHaruMuku. They were her boys - but they would rather kill her than admit to that in public or in private - and this fight was for her. So she would sit pretty on the throne they made for her, waiting impatiently for the winner to come claim his prize.


The sound of metal hitting against metal was heard and it echoed through the building. Grunts and harsh pants can be heard even from where she is sitting on the other side of the room, placed on a throne like they had wanted her, and left alone to watch their battle. She had not wanted to watch it, or be any part of it, really, but both had demanded and it was all that she could do to please them. Miura Haru might not have been princess enough or royal enough to deserve this makeshift throne, nor was she submissive, but one does not deny Hibari Kyouya and Rokudo Mukuro in the same breath and survive. If they wanted her to sit on a throne of their making and watch them fight, she would do so.

Haru's eyes were sharp as she followed their movements. They were fighting over her, and it was her responsibility that neither one of them got injured. Well, she amended mentally, too badly injured. They were her boys – though they would rather kill her than ever admit to it in public or private – and they were her responsibility, whether they liked it or not. And Haru always took care of her boys.

She watched them go back and forth, back and forth, Hibari-san, especially, pressing forward and pushing and pushing and pushing with Mukuro-san blocking and swiping in almost the same moment, leaning away from the assault and defending before managing to sneak in an attack of his own when Hibari-san was distracted for a moment or paused in his assault for the split second that left him open.

Haru wondered about when she had begun to think that blood had such a pretty color, especially when it painted such pale colored skin. She also wondered when she had stopped being disgusted by those kind of thoughts. Her stomach clenched when Mukuro-san leaned forward and licked the crimson liquid from Hibari-san's cheek before following up with a sweep at his stomach – swiftly blocked by two tonfa and evaded by a leap backwards – and chuckled. It was exciting.

"Ara, ara, you do know how I hate my toys to be dirtied, Kyoya. Do take care not to be hit again, hm?" Mismatched eyes narrowed and the look contradicted the light, amused tone of his words. There was a warning in there, somewhere, and Haru was not yet able to catch it in the moment that it was uttered – but she understood when, moments later, Mukuro-san struck quickly and missed again and again.

Hibari-san had been insulted because Mukuro-san had referred to him as a 'toy' and had said something to make the other man angry. Well, she amended, maybe not angry. But he was not taking this spar as lightly as he had been moments ago. He was still playing with his prey – Hibari-san hated to be referred to as Mukuro-san's prey, but it was the truth – but he wanted to finish as quickly as possible. With less blood than usual, which sent a tremble of disappointment down her nerves and would have worried her if she was not aware that nobody would have ended up seriously hurt. She was well aware that the boys, who thrived on violence and bloodshed, had been training her to like this from the beginning.

Now, the thought of blood drawn by either of these two boys made her shudder and her blood sing in her veins. It was a show of power and it was arousing – like watching them fighting like this and knowing that, while it was play, they were taking it seriously because they were fighting over _her_, like she was some kind of prize to be won. And she was a prize that the boys would not give up easily.

She wondered, idly, what the victor would do to her once he won. Would he wait until they were in the bedroom and take it slow, or would he fuck her right there in the training room? Or, she considered, if they decided that it was a tie, would they both take her? It had been a while since they had been inside of her at the same time, and she had to shift a little in her throne when she thought about that. Yes, that would be the best outcome. The absolute best outcome possible, because they were being nice to each other and just _playing_ together, and it was painful – in a bad way – when they all tried together but the boys couldn't even look at each other when they did it. It was so much nicer when they were all there.

It was a dangerous train of thought, she knew, and when the boys paused for a moment – maybe to catch their breaths, she did not know – she thought for a second that they had smelled her arousal from where they stood, on the other side of the room. She knew that they were both – more than – human, but they seemed to know when she was wet and wanting for them without her having to say it, and their senses were far more keen than anyone she had ever met. Even keener than Tsuna-san's, with his Hyper Intuition or whatever he had called it, and she was never sure if Reborn-chan was just playing with her or not. One moment he said he could smell something, but the next he was acting like he was a regular child again. It was frustrating, but she could see the little smirk on his face when she thought she wasn't looking, and he always made sure that everyone else would leave before Hibari-san and Mukuro-san, so the three of them could be alone together. Maybe the baby knew something, after all.

Haru blinked and noticed that the boys had stopped moving. Tonfa was pressed against trident and both of the boys were pushing against each other and holding their own ground, unmoving, with little grins on their faces. They were not nice grins, full of too-sharp corners and too much teeth and a want for blood. She knew, then, if she let them go any farther, there would be blood, and the play would end.

Haru stood, slowly, leisurely, like she was the princess that they seemed to want her to be, and casually ran her fingers down the dress that they had picked out for her, noticing the moment that their eyes shifted to her and watched the movements. She smoothed out the wrinkles of the top and let her hands carelessly caress the curves of her breasts and smooth the ruffles at the hem of her shirt and skirt. The movement was not careless or unsightly – her boys would have sooner killed her than allow her to carry herself like a common whore – but it caught the right attention, and when they finally lowered their weapons and turned their faces towards her, she granted them with a slow, sultry smile. She held her hands out to her sides, palms up and relaxed. "So?" she asked, "Who won this time?"

Her boys glanced at each other and set out towards her in the next moment, weapons disappearing or being put away as they advanced. Dark eyes watched with intense curiosity, wondering who would reach her first, though both men seemed content to stay in time with each other. Her smile grew wider. It was going to be one of _those_ nights, then. Haru sat back down on her throne and waited.

Mukuro-san reached her before Hibari-san, though that may have been because Hibari-san had stopped and Mukuro-san kept walking until he was at her feet, where he knelt and bowed his head, taking her hand and kissing it gently. Haru's eyes widened and a blush fought it's way across her face. It was always Mukuro-san who treated her like a princess, and this was no different than the other nights.

When it was Mukuro-san who took her, he always treated her gently, like she was a doll about to break. He was rarely rough or hasty, searching just as much for her pleasure as for his own, and made her feel precious and cared for constantly. Whether it was in small moments like this, when he lifted her small hand to his lips to press a kiss to her fingers and helping her out of her seat, or when they were making love – and it always felt like that when she was with him – he made her feel protected and sheltered.

She heard Hibari-san growl and felt herself being pulled into a harsh kiss that might have tasted like blood and have too much teeth for other's liking, and she melted towards him before he could pull her closer or push her against the nearest flat surface and mark her as his, his, his.

It was Mukuro-san who always made her feel like she was loved, but with Hibari-san, she felt wanted and needed – some days it felt like he needed her more than the air he breathed and that was _powerful_. Both of her boys loved her and wanted her, but she wouldn't feel _whole_ if one of them were missing.


End file.
